


Away for a day.

by captandor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13249908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captandor/pseuds/captandor
Summary: Who: Harry Potter (cameo by Hermione ♥)When: Jan 02, 2010Where: Just off the coast of Cape Town, South AfricaWhat: Harry gets away for a day.





	Away for a day.

**Author's Note:**

> A ficlet from the world of Victory Road RPG (http://vrmod.insanejournal.com/1553.html).

The holidays always seemed to take their toll on Harry. Even this year, during which he was the happiest he could ever remember being at Christmas - well fed, warm, loved, in love - he'd found himself drawn more to the solitary activities of the season. Evenings reading quietly in the study while Hermione worked or read on the other side of the room, sleeping earlier, longer solo runs in the cold British mornings. He knew she could see it, but Hermione was brilliant, and also knew him better than anyone in the world, and so she'd been understanding and patient and hadn't pushed him. He'd been better about not trying to hide it - she knew his worries and why the season was so hard. She helped him host the Dumbledore's Army potluck dinner at Grimmauld and went with him on Christmas Eve to visit his parents' graves, as she had before. He didn't wake this year with panic attacks or nightmares, but now that the new year had come, he felt the fatigue that he'd been holding off.  
  
Harry felt tired. And battered. And somewhat proud of himself for making it through as he had. But he knew he had to do something; the holidays and the new year always brought a wash of new cases at the Ministry, and he needed his energy back. With two large home projects coming soon, as well, he knew he wouldn't have much time to bounce back, and he was exactly a teen anymore, his age starting to feel more like a factor in his every day life.  
  
So he'd taken today off and kissed Hermione goodbye in the morning when she headed off to the office. He'd finished his coffee, cleaned up after their breakfast, and not long after the sun had fully risen in the sky, had headed to the public entrance of the Ministry himself. He stopped by Hermione's office in the Minister's Department and had - hopefully without worrying her too much - let her know that he was picking up a portkey and would be home later in the evening than normal. He gave her a reassuring, though small, smile, and when she nodded her head in an understated, understanding way despite his not explaining further, he sighed in relief and headed out to catch his tin can.  
  
He arrived at the South African Ministry's transportation department and made sure there was a late shift to get his portkey back to England, and then stopped to get himself a local-regulation broom before apparating to a little spot he'd been told about by his counterpart in their law enforcement department not two months ago at a conference. It was an island - uninhabited - off the coast, that his counterpart found to be perfect for solo flying, getting away from it all when it all became too much. It was only two hours later in the day here, compared to London, but the sun was already high in the sky and the temperatures hovering in the 70s making for perfect conditions.  
  
He found a good spot just off the small beach to hide his satchel and his heavy winter coat, and stretched breifly before tying his hair - yes, he needed a cut, he knew - into [a knot at the back of his head](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4f/a8/87/4fa887f3a89e69340903d10c7cf8eead--kit-harrington-man-bun-kit-harington.jpg).  
  
With a holler, he took off at a run and nearly dove to land on his hovering broom, allowing himself to let go of all of his frustration and even a few tears as he rode high above the tree tops decorating the small island. Being so far from land and so completely alone, he had the freedom the fly as he liked, outside of muggles' vision, the rules of the wizarding governments, and even from himself - he did not have to be Harry Potter for the few hours he swooped and looped in the air. As the sun set, he landed, his thighs and arms sore from the work out, reminding him he needed to get out on a broom more often. He caught his breath, took a quick dip in the clean salty water to shed the sweat from his skin, changed his clothes, and then apparated back to the Ministry to drop off his rented broom. From there, he headed to find a small bar to have a quiet dinner in, not quite yet to slip back into reality. It was only five in London if it was seven here, and he wasn't worried that Hermione would be waiting for him - she'd still be at work, anyway, he knew.  
  
He had spicy curried tripe and Chakalaka, trying the traditional local dishes on the menu, washing them all down with what seemed to be the most popular beer (Carling Black Label), judging by the fact that it was the only one the family-owned bar seemed to carry. By the time he'd finished, he was full, sluggish in a content way, and ready to curl up with Hermione and maybe a thoughtless movie he could fall asleep to. He'd be back to work in the morning, and he could already tell that his strength and moral were much on the way back to where they should be.  
  
He wandered back to the SA Ministry and thanked the after-hours witch for holding his portkey for him. It got him back to London at eight o'clock local time and he floo'd home to Grimmauld, dropping his bag and coat next to the fireplace despite the ash that he didn't bother cleaning up. "'Mione?" he called as he moved through the house toward their bedroom, the pull of a hot shower and their large comfortable bed feeling unstoppable.  
  
As he got out of the shower, she poked her beautiful face into their room, "Good day, love?" She asked, her smile tender and he returned it, feeling the sensitivity between them at an almost unnatural level for some reason, right now.  
  
He nodded, "I did. I hope Kingsley's not already ruining your new year with too much to do at the office?" She laughed and came to him, and Harry kissed her soundly, his hair still dripping and one hand holding tightly to the towel around his waist, his other coming to hold her closely to him. "Let's go to bed to early, love," he said, his voice low, when he broke the kiss for just a moment, his lips still hovering just over hers.  
  
She smiled again and nodded her head, kipping out to put away whatever she'd been doing before he'd arrived, and Harry finished drying off before crawling into bed feeling relaxed and  _finally_  ready for the new year ahead.


End file.
